Heroes of the RPD
by doctorhamilton
Summary: Did anyone else think the RPD kicked ass and deserves more attention that what it got in Resident Evil? Join the club XD. Anyway, this is gona be set before and during RE3 and RE2
1. Chapter 1 Characters

Heroes of the RPD

Characters:

Lieutenant William "Bill" Cabot

The forty-nine year old, father of three, is second in command to Chief Brian Irons, and is directly in charge of the uniformed patrol officers of the RPD. Before his current posting, Cabot served with distinction as a patrol sergeant, gaining the respect and admiration of many of those who now serve under him. Many of the serving officers of the RPD consider him to be the true Chief of Police, indeed, he frequently demonstrates a far greater ability to take command of the force in times of crisis, for example, the recent grisly murders discovered in the nearby Arklay Mountains. However, he shows no desire in assuming the post, preferring the flexibility of his current position.

Detective Sergeant Mathew McCreary.

A recent addition to the RPD, McCreary previously served as a Military Policeman in the Gulf War and then as a New York City detective. He was posted to Raccoon following the dissolution of the S.T.A.R.S. unit to increase the force's numbers. He is a personal confidant of Chief Irons, and, instead of revealing the Chief's secret dealings with Umbrella, blackmailed him into giving McCreary a percentage of Umbrella's bribes. Generally disliked by the majority of the Force, he views his colleagues as little more than useless pawns of Irons, viewing himself as far superior.

Sergeant Samuel Cross

A dedicated and long serving officer, Cross enjoys a close working relationship with fellow Sergeant Marvin Branagh and his direct superior, Lieutenant Cabot. One of several weapons specialists on the force; he also is directly responsible for the influx of new recruits, teaching them the particulars of policing the streets of Raccoon. Has an easy going nature, hiding his professional working attitude.

Officer Catalina Vialpando

One of the few female police officers of the RPD, she was initially greatly underestimated by several of her colleagues. Following a "terrorist" attack on the Umbrella Sales office in town, her marksmanship, determination, and skill in hand to hand fighting were never questioned again. Has a very close relationship with Lieutenant Cabot, which many officers consider to be more than a friendship. However, the two share little more than a teacher/student relationship, with Cabot viewing her as his protégé.

Officer George Thorne

One of many uniformed officers making up the bulk of the RPD, Thorne is one of the longest serving officers on the force, joining the Police in the late 1960's. Despite possessing excellent leadership skills and a cool head under pressure, has not been promoted beyond Patrol Officer out of personal choice. Far from being in peak physical condition, a combination of poor diet and his age, mean he has developed quite a belly, but still actively patrols parts of the city on foot.

Officer Alex Pressman

Another member of the regular uniformed RPD, Pressman also holds the RPD's heavyweight boxing title. Standing at just over six and a half feet, and weighing over two hundred pounds, he stands head and shoulders above most of his colleagues. A very quiet individual, he gets on well with Officer Thorne, with the two of them enjoying regular patrols through the city together, viewing the older man as a father figure.

Officer Eric Toombs

One of several new recruits hired in to replace the S.T.A.R.S. team. Raccoon is his first posting, so has no other policing experience. Barely out of his teens, he is frequently the butt of pranks carried out by many of his more experienced workmates, and still has much to learn about the delicacies of working within the RPD.


	2. Chapter 2 Victims increase

Conrad Hudson took a left at the next intersection on the path. He hadn't jogged this far into the woods before, but, what the hell. It was his day off. It was started to get a little cooler as the trees blocked out the sun, but he kept up a good pace. Slowing ever so slightly, to check his watch, he needed to be back home for an early lunch at 11. He stopped, looking around. He had heard something.

It had sounded like a deep raspy sigh, from somewhere nearby he guessed.

"Hello? Is….is someone there?" He called out. Maybe someone had fallen beside the path? Maybe it was some bloody teenagers smoking some of the local herbs? Either way, his call was unanswered.

He continued on, feeling increasingly uncomfortable that someone was watching him. He shrugged off his uneasiness, determined to enjoy his morning.

He stopped again.

There was that deep breathing again.

He called out into the gloom of the surrounding trees again.

"This isn't funny, just show yourself." He demanded.

This time his calls were answered………with more moans.

The next morning

Lieutenant William Cabot was interrupted from his phone call by a knock on his office door. He waved through the glass to allow Sergeant Marvin Branagh to come in. The noises of the busy office outside echoed in as Marvin opened the door.

"….yes honey, we'll see….tell Steven I'll be sure to be there. I gotta go; I'll call when I'm on my way home, yea……see you later." He finished up the call to his wife before turning in his chair to face Marvin.

"What is it, Marvin?"

"We found another body."

"Shit." Bill exhaled. "Where?"

"Couple of miles outside town. We got a couple of guys up there now."

"Does the chief know yet?"

Marvin shook his head.

"I just got told myself, you wana tell him?"

"Marvin, I think if I have to deal with Brian Irons at this particular, someone's going to get hurt."

Marvin allowed one of his very rare smiles,

"I'll 'tip off' McCreary, shall I? He can tell the chief."

"Sounds good. Notify forensics. Tell them they're needed as soon as possible. I'll head up to the scene now."

Bill pulled on his jacket as they both left the office.

As he headed outside to his car, Bill mentally added up the figures. That was the seventh body found this month, plus they were considering adding the fifty four recently missing people to the growing murder case.

It was cold outside; another unwelcome reminder that winter was on the way. He pulled his jacket tight across his chest as he passed through the entrance gates to the Police Headquarters.

He reached his car and headed to the crime scene.

This one was further into the mountains than the other cases, so it was becoming increasingly evident that whoever was killing all these people lived somewhere in the woods. The scene was already partially cordoned off at the base of the mountains, near the ranger's station. He left his car in the car park and headed up on foot. Either he was getting older or these paths were getting steeper, but Bill found himself out of breath and sweating before he reached the incident scene. A large tent had been erected around where he assumed the body was. Several officers were standing around nearby chatting, whilst a number of forensic personnel combed the immediate surrounding area. Bill turned to one of the officers he recognised, an older officer called George Thorne.

"George, help out the CSI guys would you? And widen the search pattern while you're at it."

"Copy that boss. Ok boys you heard the man." They dispersed amongst the forensic scientists, heading off into the dark trees for any evidence.

Bill, meanwhile, headed into the tent.

The body was in the middle of the tent, partially obscured by a scientist in a white boiler suit crouching over it. The scientist stood up as Bill cleared his throat. He removed the surgical mask covering most of his face.

"In my professional opinion, the subject is quite dead."

"You have a morbid sense of humour Rob." Cabot said, shaking the man's outstretched hand. Dr Robert Kendells was the city's chief forensic officer with nearly thirty years of experience. Bill had worked with him many times in the past and had found him to be an excellent crime scene investigator, but with a slight tendency to pay undue attention to insignificant details.

"So I've been told." The doctor replied with a smile.

"What's the prognosis?" Bill asked, crouching down beside the body. Most of the victim's face was gone. Whatever had attacked him had kept going till it reached the back of his skull; his head was little more than an empty husk now. Moving his vision down the body, Bill saw that most of his throat was torn out, along with what seemed like the majority of his digestive system. What was left of his intestines seemed to have been….chewed on. Just like all the others. His left arm was gone, along with most of his legs.

"As you can see, the victim shows several similarities to the other bodies we've been finding recently. The attackers seem to prefer the victim's digestive tract in all of the cases. From what's left of this victim's ileum, it seems obvious to me that the attackers have caused these injuries by biting the victim. In other words," He paused, breathing out. "He was partially eaten."

"You think there was more than one attacker?"

"Judging from what's left from the victim's clothing, he was out running. If that was a hobby of his, he would be, if not a fast runner, but a powerful runner. It would take at least two people to bring him down."

"Maybe they got the jump on him."

"Perhaps. I must say Bill; I'm surprised to see you here. Isn't Sergeant McCreary in charge of this investigation?"

"He is. I came up here to get a look before the body disappeared, just like the other ones."

"Yes I heard about that. What exactly happened?"

"Sorry Rob, you know I can't discuss any investigation with you."

"Yes, of course." He looked disappointed. "Just be careful around the good sergeant. I have a feeling he has some ulterior objectives when it comes to this case."

Bill was interrupted from replying by the very man they were talking about entering the tent.


	3. Chapter 3 Rivalry

"Doctor." McCreary acknowledged the forensic scientist, before turning to Bill, "Sir, could I have a word with you outside." He held the tent flap open for Bill to duck outside.

Where previously city officials had been combing the area, men in white hazmat suits were now picking the immediate woodland apart, looking for traces of whoever had done this. Bill's officers were again standing around in the centre of the clearing, glaring at the nearest men. Obviously words had been said between the two groups. Bill turned to McCreary, who had followed him out of the tent.

"Sir, this is the fifth time I've caught you at one of MY crime scenes in the past month. The chief has already had words with you I believe?"

Bill smiled back at him.

"Yeah he did. Chief Irons gave me explicit orders not to interfere with your investigation in any way, and I'm not. You needed my patrol officers to seal off and search the area. I deemed it prudent to see why so many men from my under strength force were diverted out here."

"Well, lets get this completely clear, Lieutenant." McCreary leaned in closer and raised his voice slightly, catching the attention of those nearest to them. "If I catch you at one of my crime scenes again, I'm going to assume that you are a chief suspect. Then, the chief will have no option but to suspend you from the force. How you like that? You'll have to stay away from your precious job and have to spend time with your wife, who by the way, isn't exactly keeping to her wedding vows." He added with a sneer.

Bill was speechless.

"What did you say, you little shit?" He growled, grabbing the sergeant by his suit lapels.

"I'm a police detective. You think I haven't got you and your whole family staked out?"

As Bill raised his fist, totally prepared to pummel the man glaring up at him, three of his officers managed to wedge themselves between the two senior men, two of them holding Bill back, while George kept the still taunting detective out of harm's way.

"Easy! Easy! Knock it off!" George yelled, appealing to the two. McCreary yelled even louder.

"Officer Thorne, get the Lieutenant of MY crime scene! Now, God dammit!"

George looked over at Bill, who was struggling less with the two officers, but still red-faced and sweating.

"George. Get the men. We're leaving."

"Sir?"

"The detective wants his crime scene. Let's leave him to it." He nodded to the two men holding him. They let go, and turned to leave. McCreary kept his distance.

"These men are needed to secure the area, they can't…"

"They go where I order them to go." Bill interrupted. "You ever get close to me again, I'll make you wish you were never born. You got that _sergeant_?!"

McCreary didn't reply. Bill just strode off after his men. George glanced over at the sergeant one last time before taking off, and soon catching up with Bill.

"Sir? You okay?"

"Find out who those guys in chemical suits were." Bill replied, looking ahead and ignoring the question. "Follow them if you have to."

"Bill, the man just insulted you and your wife. Are you ok?" George repeated the question.

"I'll be fine. Just do what I asked you Officer."

"Yes sir."

As Bill stepped back into his car the radio crackled into life.

"All units, be advised, we have a disturbance at the corner of Quartz and Seventh. Street brawl spiralled out of control. Officers sat the scene are requesting assistance. Be advised, the Chief is headed to the scene. Dispatch out."


	4. Chapter 4 Hostage Situation

"Ok boys and girls." Samuel Cross called to the other officers in the squad car he was driving. "We have a major disturbance in the middle of town, no facts of yet, but the Chief wants the area sealed off five minutes ago. That's what we'll be doing. Toombs and Michaels, you guys seal off Quartz Street as far a 5th Avenue. No one allowed in, you got that?" He looked in the mirror for the officers responses.

"Yes sergeant."

"Alright. This is your first emergency where I'm not gona be around to hold your hands, but just remember your training and keep any civilians back. Catalina?" He turned to the Latino woman riding shotgun. She turned to him, inclining her head.

"You and I are gona seal off Quartz up to 9th."

"Who's dealing with the emergency then?" She asked, turning her gaze back to the side window.

"Don't know yet, I'll guess Lieutenant MacArthur is standing by."

Officer Eric Toombs called from the back seat.

"Lieutenant who?"

"McArthur. He's the boss man of the SPF, you not met him yet?"

"Nope, what's he like?"

Cross was interrupted by Catalina.

"You know action man? Think that, but smaller, and Canadian."

Cross chuckled to himself as they neared the incident site.

Five patrol cars were already at the site, their officers aiming their guns at the corner building of Quartz and seventh. They piled out, and Toombs and Michaels immediately began ushering the gathered civilians backwards. Cross and Catalina headed through the gathered Police officers, aiming for the civilians on the other side.

"Sergeant." Cross turned, seeing his plain clothed boss standing with a radio beside an unmarked car. He called to Catalina,

"I'll catch you up." And headed over to Bill.

"Sir? What's going on?"

"Five employees inside. Six gunshots heard about twenty minutes ago, nothing since then. No ransom demands, no screams, nothing."

"What is this place?"

"Umbrella storage facility. Normally there are 10 employees inside, but we got five of them out here. They were on a delivery apparently." He glanced suspiciously at the men in white chemical suits nearby.

"SPF on the way?"

Bill sighed.

"Chief says they aren't needed. I'm talking to Kaynen at the minute, but no luck so far, his hands are tied, and the chief gave him strict orders to remain at the station. Apparently, we're gona have to deal with this."

"Where is the chief?"

"He showed up, looked around, said he was heading to city hall. Also said he still had operational command, though how the fuck he's supposed to do that from city hall is lost to me."

"Has he given any orders?"

"No, other than, we need to get in there. Kaynen can't help us, so we're gona have to do this with our sidearms. Not exactly ideal."

"I'll go in if you want sir."

"Yeah, looks like you'll have to. Take Dennis, Alex, Ed and David. Be careful; normally I wouldn't press forward without any information, but by the looks of things, we're not gona get any more."

"Understood sir, we'll be careful."

As they headed into the reception area, Cross instantly knew something was wrong. There was blood smeared all over what was presumably the receptionist's desk. He signalled to the towering Alex Pressman to check it out. The shotgun seemed tiny in his gigantic hands as he peered around the desk.

"Nothing. More blood just."

"Alright, let's press on."

They entered a large storage room. Large shelving units were arranged in rows across the room, casting deep dark shadows.

"Eyes open, keep moving."

As they headed further, a peculiar noise became ever more evident. Like someone was gagging and chewing at the same time. Alex took point, scanning in front of them with his shotgun. Cross, immediately behind him, noticed the giant's light blue police shirt darken with sweat. Christ, Samuel thought, if Alex is scared, why haven't the rest of us shit ourselves yet?

As they reached the end of the shelves, they found the source of the noise. A pale-skinned man was staring wide-eyed at them from where he was slumped up against the wall.

"Are you…?" Alex began.

The man's head slowly rolled to the side as blood cascaded from his neck down his shirt, forming a pool of the dark liquid on the floor. He emitted a low groan, crawling to his feet. Another head poked out from behind the nearest shelves, groaned like the first one and lurched towards them.


	5. Chapter 5 Spiralling out of control

Alex took an unconscious half step backwards, aiming his shotgun at the badly bleeding man dragging himself off the floor in front of them.

"Sarge?" He asked Cross, casting a glance behind him. "What are we doing?"

Cross didn't reply, instead, he called out to the man slowly slouching towards them. The other bleeding occupant of the room was reaching through the shelving unit beside them, her hand frantically grasping for them.

"Sir, get down on the ground and place your hands on your head!" Cross yelled.

No response.

He repeated the order. "Get down on the ground!"

Again, there was no response as the man lurched closer towards them. Alex felt a tap on his shoulder. Cross's voice echoed in his ear.

"Taser."

Alex slowly retrieved the taser from his belt, aimed, and fired the electrodes at the mans chest.

He spasmed as the electric current travelled through his body before crumpling to the floor, and then attempted to rise again. Alex and Cross raced over to him, Alex covering the man with the shotgun whilst Cross tried to pull his arms behind him to put the handcuffs on.

As Cross struggled with the wounded man, he cried out, leaping backwards. Alex kept the man pressed to the floor with his boot planted to his back.

"Sergeant?"

"Fucker bit me!" Cross yelled, applying pressure to his bleeding hand. The sight of the blood seemed to excite the man underneath Alex's boot, as it struggled further, desperately trying to reach Cross.

Dennis Colt and Ed Hastings meanwhile, were more successful detaining the other moaning suspect. Dennis had his knee in her back, pinning her to the floor while Ed was holstering his pistol and looking over at Cross.

"You ok?" Alex asked.

"Fine, can you get the cuffs on him?" Cross asked, keeping his distance.

Alex, with characteristic coolness, bent down, and grabbed the mans hands. Wrenching them behind the suspect's back, Alex set his shotgun aside, before applying the handcuffs. He hauled the man to his feet, keeping him at arms length for fear of getting bitten like Cross.

"Ed, we'll get these two outside, Alex, look for anyone else." Cross ordered, taking the suspect's arm, but staying clear of its thrashing head.

Alex and Dennis continued the search of the warehouse. As Alex reached the furthest wall from where they had entered the room, Dennis called from a side office.

"Alex, check this out."

Outside, Dr Alan Marsh, normally an assistant gene researcher, but today assisting in Umbrella's cleanup team, watched as two police officers hauled out two "infected" from the Company storehouse. He had helped with the cleanup operation in the mountains this morning and had been heading back here with the remains when they found the area cordoned off. Leaving the rest of the cleanup team outside the cordon with their van, he had announced he worked at the building, and was immediately shown to the officer in command, a man he recognised from the mountains that morning, a Lieutenant William Cabot. Silently, Dr Marsh wondered if the Lieutenant was one of the police officers paid by Umbrella, but, judging from the man's lack of knowledge of the situation, it seemed unlikely.

As the officers neared, Dr Marsh saw that one of them was holding his hand, as blood seeped between his fingers. Good God, Marsh thought, the infection was going to spread much quicker than expected now that this man was bitten. The two "infected" that had been arrested could easily disappear once in police custody, but disposing of this officer before he succumbed to the virus would be….difficult. He had to act quickly, as he reached into his pants pocket.

Back inside the warehouse, Alex peered down the manhole they had found in the office. Judging from the smell, it seemed to be part of the sewer system, rather than a basement.

"See anything?" Dennis asked.

"Nothing….wait." Peering into the gloom, he could see the darkened outline of….something. Reaching in, his hands just about reached it. What ever it was, it was…warm….and wet. Alex retrieved his hand. He was holding someone's bloodied forearm.

"What the fuck?" Dennis breathed.

Alex was about to reply when he heard gunfire from outside.

Marsh's first shot missed, instead disintegrating a Police car side window. The bleeding officer he had been aiming at had just moved, as he shoved the still struggling "infected" into the back seat of the car, when Marsh fired. Officers around him reacted instinctively; drawing their sidearms. He had only a few seconds before he would be ordered to drop the gun. He readjusted him aim, and fired again, this time striking the officer, but only in the shoulder. As the officer spun and fell to the ground, Marsh felt something strike his chest.

Looking down, he saw the front of his white boiler suit darken red. He felt himself fall to his knees.

There was no pain.

The pistol tumbled from his hands, as he searched for the officer he had shot at. He saw the officer being helped to his feet, but that was not what caught his attention. The second "infected", not yet in the back of a police car, was taking advantage of the confusion to attack the officer holding it. He was falling to the ground, as several other officers tried to detach them.

It's all going so terribly wrong, Marsh thought, as he pitched forward, falling facedown on the pavement.


End file.
